Swipe Right If You Want To Play
by ShatteredHearts13
Summary: A/U (No Blackout) -Charlie stumbles upon Bass when being forced to try a dating app. Bass can't get Charlie out of his head once he finds her. Neither of them do love, but the more they discover about each other-, the quicker they realize there's no easy way out of what they've found.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"This is fucking stupid!" Charlie says as she swipes left on her phone yet again, photo after photo of dickish looking boys flying off the screen as soon as they appeared. Her friend Nora sighs and then _again_ goes to explain the phenomenon that is online dating. Swipe right if you like their face, swipe left if you don't, it really was just that simple. Charlie was making it complicated.

"Why do you even have this app anyway? You have Miles." Charlie gives Nora a look that is a cross between amusement and protectiveness.

"Sometimes it's nice to feel wanted by other guys even if you don't want them."

Charlie understands that. Her last few relationships she felt anything but wanted. Now she doesn't bother with relationships, just the one night stands that leave her satisfied without the familiar aching feeling inside. She's curled up on the chestnut leather couch, her legs tucked under her as she repeatedly swipes left. Nora sits on the floor by Charlie's knees swiping more right than left, the annoying chiming noise echoing through the room when someone likes her photos back, the flirty _it's a match!_ Phrase popping up on Nora's screen like those annoying pop up ads.

"Remind me again why we're doing this." Charlie groans as she swipes left yet again and looks down over her phone screen to shoot Nora a look of utter exasperation for the millionth time.

Nora doesn't even bother to look up at Charlie as she repeats the same sentence that she always does when Charlie asks.

"Because you need someone who makes you laugh."

"I laugh!"

"You laugh when you're trying to get a guy to fuck you. You run like hell when someone actually likes you Charlie."

"I don't see what's wrong with that…" Charlie mutters indignantly

"You have commitment issues Charlie. We're gonna get you over them."

The way Nora says this makes Charlie scowl at her before picking up her phone and resuming swiping left. Having people leave her entire life would make anyone wary of commitment. Her mom left, her dad left, her friends left –except for Nora of course, even her brother left, not of his own free will at first but he's still gone nonetheless. She only has Nora and Miles.

"Okay I've gotta meet Miles for our date tonight."

Charlie rolls her eyes at Nora but gets up anyway and hugs her, closing her eyes at the familiar warmth and scent as Nora holds her close for a moment before releasing her. "I'll see you tomorrow hey?"

Charlie scrunches up her nose in confusion and Nora sighs at Charlie's constant forgetfulness. "We're all going to that new Italian place that opened by Miles…."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes I'll be there." Charlie says as she scoots Nora out the door, a soft smile playing on her lips as she closes the door behind Nora. Her apartment is suddenly deathly quiet and she picks out a record from the huge collection on her bookshelves, setting the needle down on the vinyl and listening to the first few notes of Let It Go by The Beatles start to fill the room.

She doesn't mind being alone, enjoys it really. But there are some moments where it really hits her that if not for Nora and Miles, she would honestly and truly be alone in this world. It's a depressing thought and it always brings her to slightly entertaining the thought of having someone around who likes her, even loves her and was there for her when these moments happened. The thought is always entertained for a moment before she remembers how it feels when people leave. She remembers falling to the floor, wine staining the hardwood and the pain in her chest like someone had ripped out the best parts of her. She'd rather be lonely than feel that ever again.

She cleans her apartment, she showers, she binge watches f.r.i.e.n.d.s on Netflix's. The feeling is still there and it hurts. She glances at her phone for the umpteenth time and finally gives in, opening the app and continuing to swipe left. She didn't need a relationship. Maybe just a friend would do.

She has almost given up, the overwhelming number of half-naked mirror selfies and drunk off their faces pictures making her question the entire male population when she stopped at one.

He wasn't smiling, wasn't frowning either, he looks almost haunted and sad and it was though someone had put a face to her emotions. Golden curls and piercing blue eyes, his body relaxed as he looks into the distance. There was only one picture and no bio, only the name Bass which she would have usually taken as a red flag if it hadn't been for his expression. She sat there looking at his photo for what seemed like hours. Then she swipes right.

Sebastian Monroe sighs, the beer in his hand getting warm as he restlessly looks around the bar from his regular perch on the stool in from of the bar. It's Tuesday night and the crowd is a sad crowd of regulars including himself, the sound of the football game blaring louder than the pathetic crowd that had gathered. He downs the slightly warmed beer and pushes it to the side.

"You want another?" His friend Jeremy yells from behind the bar and Bass nods, accepting the frosty cold beer.

"I thought you'd be fucking some girl tonight." Jeremy was never one for subtly in front of people and Bass never really cared what people thought as he shrugs, "Haven't found anyone yet."

Jeremy shakes his head and starts drying the glasses stacked behind him, "You will man. You always do."

Bass laughs it off and takes a drink of his beer before pulling out his phone and opening his last resort app. He begins to swipe through photos of girls, most of them with duck faces and in a group of ten so you never really knew which one she was. He swipes left a lot, easily dismissing the girls with the cliché faces and boring bios until one girl named Charlie stops him.

She's undeniably something, her hair a wild mess of curls as she looks up towards the clouds above her, her face wistful and almost sad as she stands alone, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He flips to the next picture and takes in the concentrated look on her face as she is setting the needle down on the record, her eyebrows knitted and her bottom lip caught between her teeth as her delicate fingers hold the record. Her hair is piled on top of her head, her face is makeup free, and her ripped skinny jeans and tank top give him the impression of a carefree girl. He flips to the last picture and his breath catches in his throat as he takes her in. She's looking directly at the camera this time, her hair in loose waves framing her face as her head rest against her arm on the couch. Her other arm rests in her lap as her knees curl to her chest. She wears a soft smile across her face, her blue eyes surrounded by black eyeshadow a harsh contrast to her sweet smile but it's the look in her eyes that startles him, it's the same look he seems in the mirror every day. He now questions who this girl is and what the hell she went through. She's alone in all the photos but someone had to have taken the photos of her and he wonders who took them. A friend? A boyfriend? He hopes it's the former.

He swipes right.

The startling chime of her phone wakes Charlie up at 2am. She does not like being woken up at 2am and she growls as she picks up her phone, squinting blearily at it from the blinding light radiating off the screen.

 _It's a match!_

She looks down at the screen, the photo of him staring off into space and the photo of her setting the needle on the record both of them looking at ease in their surroundings. _Well that was easy._ She stares at her phone unknowing what to next, the minutes passing by as she sits crossed legged on her bed. Its six minutes later when her phone chimes again.

' _Hello Charlie.'_

She sits there, in the dark squinting at her phone screen unable to move her fingers to form a response. Finally she starts to type, a response forming that pulls a smile to her lips.

' _Hello Bass.'_

It's nothing special, but neither is she. A mundane answer for a mundane girl.

She flops back onto her bed and awaits his next message.

Bass chuckles as he reads Charlie's message and rapidly types out his next message. Usually he would wait a few minutes but there's something about his girl that has his blood fizzing through his veins.

' _Why are you up so late Charlie?'_

He glances at the numbers on his phone as 2:30 flashes back at him and he takes a drink of his warming beer as he places his phone on the bar top and waits. Charlie, he likes that name. It's rough and sensual and the kind of name that fits her to a _T._ She isn't anything ordinary.

His phone chimes and he grabs it immediately.

' _I wasn't but you took your time swiping right.'_

He grins as she states that she had been sleeping before the night even had a chance to get interesting and that she figures he took his time swiping right.

' _I sincerely apologize for that Charlie. No one should ever make you wait for anything.'_

He grasps his phone in his hand and tries to not stare at the screen for her response. Minutes go by and he wonders if she fell back asleep or worse –that she wasn't interested anymore.

His phone chimes as it vibrates in his hand and he looks at it eagerly.

' _Nice guy huh? No one ever does.'_

Her words bring a smile to his face at the nice guy comment. He is a nice guy, he just chooses not to show it. Heat courses through him at her other words and he has a flash of images of bringing her to the brink of orgasm over and over and then denying her, making her beg for him to let her fall.

He shifts uncomfortably and tries to rid the image from his head, but it's burned into his mind now.

' _Do you not like nice guys?'_

' _I like good guys, not nice guys.'_

He grins and can't respond fast enough.

' _Well then it's a good thing I'm a good guy.'_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Bass sits in the cherry red booth at the back of the diner, as his fingers strum gently against the laminated counter, the only indication that he's nervous.

It had took him almost two days to convince her to meet him in person and even after her hesitant agreement he still wasn't completely convinced that she would show. She had chosen this diner for their first meetup and his lips quirked into a grin when he took it in. Generally the woman he took out on dates preferred something a little… classier. This diner was in the bad part of Chicago, gangs and drug deals accompanied by shootings on occasion and the diner showed its wear, the outside starting to turn a dingy yellow and the flickering neon sign starting to lose its blinding color. He loved it.

He ordered coffee and hesitantly took a sip from the mug and was immediately impressed at its flavor, scolding himself for judging so quickly. He studied the menu and set it aside, refusing to order without Charlie –if she did show that is.

His job usually had him in dress shirts and slacks but he had grasped at the chance to dress down and relax in something comfortable, the worn grey t-shirt and jeans a testament to that.

The bell rings above the diner door and he glances up in the moment she walks through the door. God she was something. Dark blue denim clung to her legs like a second skin and a black muscle tee cut a few inches above the waist of her low rise jeans so every time she moves he caught a glimpse of her pierced belly button. She was a walking piece of heaven and hell combined. She spots him and instead of walking towards him she instead tilts her head and sizes him up, her gaze running hot up and down him for a moment before she makes some kind of decision because she makes her way towards him, the heel of her ankle boots clicking in time with her steps.

She drops gracefully into the seat across from him, her legs immediately crossing as she props her chin in her right hand and looks at him with those shockingly blue eyes. Bass shifts under her stare but doesn't break eye contact and he sees something that comes close to approval from her.

One of the waitresses comes over and its clear Charlie knows her by the way her face lights up.

"Coffee honey?" the waitress has got to be close to sixty and he watches Charlie's face morph into one of warmth when the term of endearment slips from the waitresses lips.

"Please Nancy." Bass watches the waitress give him the once over unsubtly and then shoot Charlie a look to which Charlie responds to with a half-smile and raise of her eyebrow. They seem to communicate in their own language and he finds it amusing.

The waitress walks away after she's filled his cup too and he takes a moment to watch her as she opens three sugar packets, pouring them into her coffee before stirring.

"You're staring."

He didn't realize she noticed but he just shrugs, matching her cool façade.

"It's hard not to."

Her mouth quirks up into a half smile and when she locks eyes with him again they're slightly warmer than before.

"So you're Bass."

He lets out a laugh, "Well even if I wasn't I don't think I'd be able to bring myself to say no."

Her smile is instantaneous and it lights up her entire face, the blues of her eyes sparking to life. She's momentarily speechless and then shrugs, collecting her thoughts.

"Interesting taste in food you have Charlie." Bass says, letting her avoid answering him and she arches an eyebrow at him in what he supposes is supposed to be intimidating.

"Who says we're going to be eating?"

Images flood his brain, ones of him bending her over the bathroom sink, her on her knees on the bathroom floor with his cock in her mouth as those blue eyes stare up at him, his mouth tasting her as she screams. Fuck.

Charlie clears her throat and he realizes that she's caught him daydreaming and he shakes his head to rid himself of the images, her smirk making him know that she knows _exactly_ what he was thinking about. The more uncomfortable he becomes the more her smirk widens and his pants tightens. He shifts subtly to get more comfortable and hopes she doesn't notice. She notices.

Finally she lets out a laugh and fixes him with those blue eyes filled with fire and steel. "Relax Bass –can I call you Bass? Or do you prefer Sebastian? I'm sure no one calls you Sebastian except for _special_ occasions."

The various _special occasions_ he had been thinking about before making him smirk at her, a lazy one that he knows woman love. "I like Bass on _all_ occasions. Would you like me to call you Charlie on all occasion too?"

"I prefer Charlie on _all_ occasions." She says, stealing his earlier words and he can't help but be fascinated by her and a whole lot of turned on. He shifts again, adjusting himself.

"Relax Bass, I'm just teasing you." The way she says teasing implies she knows exactly what she's doing and he loves it.

She tilts her head slightly to the side and studies him, her gaze becoming more intense than playful and he wonders what she's thinking.

"How old are you?"

The question is unexpected and he wonders how old she thinks he is.

"37." His answer is short and sweet and studies her expression that doesn't change as she nods.

"How old are you." Suddenly he worries that he's going to be corrupting something good.

"23."

Not that young, not that old either. He feels ancient compared to her. He's lost in thought when her voice breaks through.

"Bass, if the age difference bothers you, you can walk away. No hard feelings."

He studies her and finds her expression clear and calm and breathes out slowly

"Doesn't it bother you?"

She shrugs, "Nope."

One simple word and she says it so easily though he can see she's thought about it. She's a riddle and a mystery and he wants to figure her out.

She looks at him for a long moment and then reaches for the menu on the table.

"You in or out Bass?"

Her eyes are focused on the menu and he takes a moment, wondering if this was worth staying for, not because of her, but because of him. He was ancient compared to her and though he wasn't ready to settle down, he didn't think he could never see her again, even if he did sleep with her. This was dangerous. He never thought like this because there never was a woman to make him think like this.

He clears his throat and waits till her eyes find his over her menu. "What is this?"

Her expression becomes guarded and for a moment he wishes he hadn't asked but her soft answer changes his mind.

"Something. It's something Bass."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Charlie feels the way her knee bounces under the table and she instantly stills it, hating the nervous tic she's never really been able to shake. She keeps her voice calm and if it wasn't for the years of practice in impassiveness, she's sure he would be able to tell how nervous she really was.

He has a quick smile and a sharp tongue and she likes it, she likes it a lot. She stamps the feeling down as soon as it rises.

She's schools her expression to remain impassive as she eyes him over her menu. She had to learn from a young age to look impassive, her eyes blank even if her head was spinning. The people in her life as a child had thrived on her weakness, manipulating it, exposing it. She had learned quickly that if she was to survive with her sanity she had to not care, or at least pretend not to care. Some habits die hard.

She studies Bass over her menu subtly and notes the faraway look in his eyes as though he's thinking about something far more serious than what to order. Thirty seven looks good on him. She takes in the strong jaw rough with stubble, faint lines in the corner of his mouth and eyes and the blue of his eyes that seem to become alight when he talks. He didn't mention her choice of venue and she's half amused and half grateful. She loves this diner, it's the only place from her childhood that holds a happy memory and even at twenty three, she clings to it. Happy memories are hard to come by for her.

She knows what she wants, she's a creature of habit and her perusal of the menu is strictly to buy time to collect her thoughts. As her eyes skim over the already memorized options she waits for him to make the next move. She hates waiting, impatience always racing her common sense to the finish line, but she knows she won't be the one to make any kind of move, she's too guarded for that.

He seems to come back to earth as his eyes land on her and the distant look drops from them, replaced by warmth and she holds that look in her chest to feel it later when she's alone.

"What are you getting?"

His voice is laced with teasing and she can't help that answering smile that breaks out across her face.

"Blueberry pancakes."

He looks at her with mild amusement and she lifts her chin in an obvious challenge to what he's going to say about her beloved pancakes.

"Just pancakes?" His voice is teasing and warm.

"And bacon." Her sheepish shrug is followed with a half quirk grin and he grins at her chagrin, loving the fact that she's going to eat whatever the hell she wants.

They order, the waitress shooting Bass a warm smile as she takes their menus from them.

"So were you born here in Chicago?" Bass asks her.

"Born and raised." She smiles and it's like sunshine.

"You're family's here too?"

She shifts in the booth and looks uncomfortable as she mutters, "Something like that."

He cocks his head to the side, "That sounds like a story."

Charlie doesn't meet his gaze as her fingers follow the rim of her coffee cup. "My uncle raised me."

He feels abashed but he also can't help the strong curiosity that follows.

"Did your parents pass away?"

She stills her shifting as though his question froze her in place and then she looks at him, her blue eyes chilling his.

"No, they didn't pass away."

He tucks that piece of information away for later. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

Her gaze locks with his and she searches his eyes for a moment before she tries to nonchalantly shrug. "Its fine, it happened a long time ago anyway."

She shakes her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts and aims for casual, "What kind of family do you have?"

His smile is glowing when she asks him, "Well I have two sisters, Angela and Cynthia, Cynthia is…. Fire. She knows what she wants and go fearlessly after it, usually calling me to bail her out of trouble on a regular basis when her plans need an adult sidekick. She's the heart of the family, all of my happiest memories involve Cynthia."

Bass pauses to take a sip of his coffee, liking the way Charlie seems to take in his every word as though it was magic.

"And Angela, she's the older sister. The protector of the family. She's the strong one, always looking out for everyone, she always feels the need to right the wrongs of others. It's no wonder she went on to be a trauma psychologist. She can handle the toughest cases without breaking and she does it well, sometimes _too_ well."

"So then if Cynthia's the heart and Angela's the protector, what are you?" Charlie asks him, her voice soft.

"The guardian. Always there to keep them out of too much trouble."

Her eyes are nostalgic and sad and it breaks his heart a little. He wishes he hadn't said anything.

She catches his look of pity and immediately becomes impassive.

"Do you have any siblings?" Bass knows it's a risky question but he needs to know why she's looking like someone kicked her in the stomach.

"No."

Her answer is calm and precise. Practiced. Not even a tremor in her voice.

"What about your parents?"

Bass is startled that she even asked but he answers regardless.

My mom is wonderful, warm and strong. She's always insisting that I need to eat more than is humanly possible."

He laughs warmly, "She always insists once a month that we all get together for a family supper, it's always a struggle to get everyone together but somehow she does it. I'm usually am the one picking Angela up from the airport from wherever case she was on and sometimes Cynthia tags along too and it's just like old times. Cynthia cranks my old blues cd's and Angela will do this little dance that she's been doing since she was like ten and it's like we aren't all grown up anymore."

"What does Cynthia do?"

"She's an art curator. She gets to travel the world finding million dollar paintings for some rich guy that doesn't know the difference between a Vaughn Goh and a Monet."

He sighs but it's an indulgent one. "But she loves it. She told me once that it's the thrill of buying something priceless that keeps her sticking around."

Charlie sighs and has a dreamy look in her eyes. "I'm jealous, that sounds like a dream job."

"You like art?"

Her grin is instantaneous. "Who doesn't like art? If I had the time I would just wander the galleries here for hours."

"But you don't have the time?"

Her face grows cloudy with conflict, "Not as much time as I wish I had. My job keeps me occupied most days."

"What do you do?"

"I work with the police."

Her answer is short and she holds his eyes when she says it.

"Doing what?"

She doesn't answer at first and it worries Bass.

"I just work in a specific division."

"Narcotics? Homicide?"

She swallows hard and doesn't meet his eyes.

"Hostage Negotiations."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Jeremy punches him in the arm and Bass glowers at him.

"What the hell was that for man?!"

"You met Charlie Greyson! _The_ Charlie Greyson?!"

"For the millionth time, yes."

Jeremy shakes his head, "Damn man, I've heard legends about that girl. Youngest on the team and known to fearlessly walk into high tension situations."

"Yeah I know." Bass sounds solemn and drained.

"Does she know who you are?"

Bass shakes his head as Jeremy takes of sip of his beer that was sitting on the counter in his kitchen.

"No I changed the topic after that."

"Well you better tell her soon before she finds you at one her situations."

Bass sighs and buries his head in his hands. "I've been here four days, haven't even started work yet and I meet the girl who has the most dangerous job on the team. Fucking great."

Jeremy places his hand on Bass's shoulder, "Just wait until you have to watch her walk into a situation where the guy has a bomb strapped to his chest. If it's hard to think about it now, you better walk away before you have to pray each time she gets paged. "


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The sun beat down hot and humid through the bank's windows as the bank's temperature rose degree by degree as the hours passed by. Charlie's head rested against the warm window by the banks door as she sat with her tailbone aching from the marble floor. She has been sitting like this for the last four hours, her arms resting on her knees and her expression a neutral one of boredom and indifference. In front of her the gunman paces the length of the bank, scowling at the whimpers from the tellers and unfortunately placed customers. James Anderson was twenty eight, recently lost his job and was in the process of declaring bankruptcy. The bank had declared a foreclosure on his house two days ago, officially taking away everything from him. Charlie understood desperation, had seen it often enough to know that James Anderson didn't plan on walking out the bank which only made the situation more dire. He had nothing to lose. Casualties would be a mere inconvenience him.

He hadn't shot her in the first 30 seconds after she had opened the glass bank doors, which was promising, it was also his fatal mistake. She sure as hell didn't look like a hostage negotiator, average height, toned build and long honey hair, most would mistake her for a wrong place wrong time bystander. She carried no weapon or badge, no comm, no vest, she had even left her sunglasses with her supervisor before walking in. She was the complete image of non-threatening. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders and her voice carried a lilt of boredom as she sat down against the glass windows of the bank and felt her heart rate slowly reaccelerate as the adrenaline slightly faded from the lack of immediate danger. There's always a risk with her job and she knows it, knows it better than anyone who's a bystander to her position. She's all too aware that each situation she walks into could very well be her last. She's accepted it. She set out into this job knowing that she could change the course of lives if she intervened and the chance to kick evil in the teeth is just a bonus.

The four hours had passed slowly, the temperature rise in the bank making Charlie's tank top stick to her skin. The hostages in the bank kept shooting her pleading looks, begging her to do something and she could only look back in indifference. Her indifference kept them alive. One wrong move and the automatic Anderson held would put holes in them before they could even think to move.

This needs to end, his pacing showing no signs of slowing as he starts to pace away from her. A red dot appears on the back of his head as Charlie's sniper lets her know that her team is prepared to move and she moves her left hand to her knee and makes a fist and immediately the red dot disappears.

She knows the pre outlined plan. Wait till he gets close enough and then tackle him and dispose of the gun. James Anderson had come into the bank looking for the manager, only the manager was on vacation. It's only a matter of time before he picks a new target to blame.

He starts towards her and she flexes her legs subtly, readying them for the leap. He's closer now. She needs to make sure he doesn't pull the trigger when she tackles him. She needs to make sure he's aiming at her if he does. Her legs are shaky but ready and she inhales deeply when he takes his fifth step, prepared to get shot in the next ten seconds. She hates getting shot. He takes another step and her legs start to shake from the adrenaline surge. He takes the seventh step and she leaps.

The automatic comes up three seconds late and she tackles him to the ground, elbowing him in the chest as he struggles to get his sidearm free. She struggles desperately with him, grabbing the knife strapped to his leg and stabs him shallowly between his ribs, taking his moment of surprise to kick his automatic across the room, ignoring the terrified cries of the people around her. She knows the exact moment SWAT breaches because the entire bank shakes as the trample of boots surround her but she doesn't stop fighting as he tries to reach his sidearm. She gasps harshly when his elbow hits a soft spot on her shoulder and she grasps the gun between her shaking hands, curling herself into a ball as she rolls away from him, the gun coming up to aim at him as she steadily grips it while the SWAT agents surround them.

They push James Anderson face down on the marble floor and Charlie sighs with relief as she slowly lowers the gun she's holding, taking deep breaths to steady herself.

"Greyson!"

Charlie turns towards the voice of her supervisor Steve Derrick and allows herself a small smile as he charges through the bank towards her. He stops just before he collides with her and assesses her from head to toe.

"I didn't get shot this time." She says cheekily and he glowers at her as he calls over the medic.

"I fine." Charlie protests as the medic ushers for her to sit in one of the chairs.

"You're bleeding everywhere. Sit down and let them do their job. Too much paperwork for me if you die on my watch."

This time Charlie glowers at him as she sits her protesting tailbone down on the chair, barely covering the wince that crosses her face at the ache that goes through her. The medic prods and pokes her and she tries to keep some pretty colorful words from escaping her mouth.

Finally he stands up and turns to face Steve who is keeping a close watch on her.

"Well?" Steve asks him.

"Bruised ribs, split lip and a nasty headache."

"See I'm fine!" Charlie gets up and tries her best not to sway at the lack of adrenaline.

"C'mon lets go outside and I'll get you some juice and we'll go through your statement for the local police."

Charlie sighs exhausted, but knows it has to be done, wearily accepting the hand the Steve hold out to her to pull her on her feet.

They go through her statement in under an hour when Steve leaves and then comes back looking troubled.

"What's up? Charlie asks him, not liking that guilty look on his face.

"A domestic case just got called in and the guys are asking for you."

Charlie masks her expression but winces internally. She hates domestic abuse cases. They remind her far too clearly of her own past.

"Let's go then."

Steve shakes his head, "They can call another negotiator and you need to go home."

"I need to go do my job." She stares him down and eventually he relents.

"Fine, but you're changing first and you're going to eat something while I drive you there."

Bass parks his Mercedes and gets out, pulling on the bulletproof vest from the backseat and sliding the comm into his ear before jogging across the street, scowling at the overeager young rookie detailed to keep the public off the premises.

"Sebastian Monroe, FBI."

"Let him through!"

Bass steps aside from the rookie as Steve Derrick jogs away from the command station to meet him.

"It's good to see you Bass." Steve claps him on the shoulder and then steers him toward the command center.

"What's the situation?" Bass asks.

"Domestic abuse, the father has locked his kids and wife in the apartment with him. He's on drugs right now, arrested several times for possession of cocaine and heroin. We're trying to decompress the situation before he gets too agitated.

Bass scans over the many men suited up in SWAT gear and the monitors. "Are we sending a guy up there to talk the situation down?"

Steve barely glances up from the monitors, "Already done."

"Well where is he then?"

Steve points to the tiny figure on the screen and Bass nearly trips when he sees who Steve's pointing at.

Charlie.

Bass watches her in the monitor, her back leaned up against the apartment door, her arms leaning on her knees. She looks utterly bored, but it's the purple bruise and cut on her lip that grabs Bass's attention.

"What the hell happened to her face?!"

Steve looks surprised by his outburst but answers regardless, "She had a bank situation this morning, look a couple hits to the face to avoid getting shot."

Bass tries to control his breathing as he watches the monitor with Charlie on it. _Took a couple hits_ is a downplay from the mess he sees on her face, her cheekbones swelled as her face is a smatter of crimson and violet.

Steve stops what he's doing at takes in Bass's expression with a curious look. "Bass, I know Washington sent you down here to help out on our bank heist case, but this isn't it. Go back to your hotel room, get some hot food, settle in because god knows how long you're going to be stuck here."

Bass's eyes don't leave the monitor, "I'd like to stay."

"Do you know who she is?"

Bass tears his eyes away from the monitor to look at Steve. "Of course, I read through her file on the flight here. She's impressive." He keeps his voice indifferent, trying to downplay the underlining emotions.

Steve rolls his eyes, "Impressive is an understatement. Top in her class, youngest on the force and has the highest number of cases resolved. Along with being the only female hostage negotiator in this city she has the respect and influence to get things done when she doesn't like something."

"What are you saying?"

Steve sighs and glances at the monitor, making sure Charlie's still okay before looking at Bass again.

"What I mean is she is not going to take it well when I tell her that Washington sent someone to assist her on a case that she's been leading for the last two years. Let's just say she's not going to be pleased. And when Charlie is not pleased she tends to do everything in her power to make you regret the decision. She'll most likely try to get you sent home before you can even start."

Bass smirks and shakes his head, "She doesn't have that kind of clearance."

Steve shrugs, "Maybe not, but she has the friends and influence to make it a possibility."

Bass looks at the monitors again, "I'd like to stay until it's resolved and then I'll leave and let you tell her with me far away."

Steve studies him for a moment and Bass swears that Steve can see right through him, but he just shrugs again and turns back to the monitors.

Bass stands next to Steve and takes a close look at Charlie through the screen noticing something alarming to him.

"Where is her gun and vest?!"

"Over there," Steve cocks his head to the glock and bulletproof vest sitting on one of the tables around them.

"I mean why she isn't wearing it." Bass is frustrated at the lack of protection around her and is trying hard to reign in his anger.

"Bass you're new to this team so I'm going to forget that you're questioning what I'm letting my guys do. Charlie never wears a vest or carries a gun when she enters a situation, it only makes her more of a threat if she does. That's one of the reasons she's so good at her job, she isn't perceived as a threat so she doesn't have to act like one."

"So what happens if she can't get him to come out of the apartment?"

"Then when we prepare to breach we'll bring her gun for her so she isn't unprotected. But Charlie is damn good at what she does, breaching is last resort."

Bass nods and starts to pace the length of the monitors in nervousness, watching Charlie's every move. Bass can hear the man inside the apartment yell through the sound machines Charlie had stationed and he watches her flinch slightly before relax against the door again as the sobs of the children inside echo through the door. There's a crash as though a lamp was through against a wall and he watches carefully as Charlie's hands clench into fists even as her face remains impassive as she calmly asks if he's alright in there.

Bass watches this routine go on for the next two hours, the husband threatening his wife and children as he throws things and screams and Charlie's calm answers. Bass catalogs every time she flinches and tenses, those small details sticking out to him.

Suddenly he hears her voice come over her comm, "Steve, he's coming out. Does Drake have him in his sights?"

Suddenly a red dot appears on her forehead for a moment and Steve rolls his eyes, "Yes Charlie he has you in his sights. We're ready whenever you are."

Whenever you are turns out to be another twenty minutes of eternity until finally the apartment door opens, the man on the other side looking shocked to find Charlie leaning against the steel railing, her arms crossed against her chest looking bored.

He takes an unsteady step forward and Charlie keeps her position, not even blinking when a red dot appears on his forehead.

"Turn around and place you hand on the wall." Charlie's voice is calm with an underlining tone of steel as she watches him slowly turn around. She approaches him slowly and sidesteps when his leg kicks back towards hers, shoving him roughly into the wall and Bass distinctly hears a crack before a mumbled _fuck_ from the man.

"You make another move without my say so and I'll make sure you won't be walking again." Her voice has lost its calmness and is now weary and menacing. A complete change from the Charlie he had just spent three hours listening to.

One of the guys jogs up to the complex, taking the stairs two at a time till he reaches her, assessing her before leading the guy down the stairs and to the awaiting police car.

Charlie looks exhausted.

"Steve, I need you up here. Bring a medic and Jaime too."

Bass watches Steve tense before him and the medic start at a run towards the apartment, a man jogging after them wearing worn blue jeans and a grey t-shirt.

Bass watches the medic brush by Charlie as he heads into the apartment as well as the other man, but Steve stops when he reaches Charlie. He looks concerned and then Charlie nods slowly as her and Steve make their way down the stairs. Steve walks Charlie all the way to one of the waiting ambulances and Bass can finally see her in person for the first time in three hours not over a monitor. She looks like hell.

It's more than just the bruises on her face, it's the way her shoulders are slumped and she looks utterly defeated despite having just resolved a situation with no casualties. Steve leaves for a moment and comes back with an oversized sweater that swallows Charlie, her knee bouncing as she leans her head against the door of the ambulance.

Bass sees Steve coming towards him and he doesn't even try to pretend he wasn't watching them.

"I'm taking her home. We'll talk tomorrow."

Bass sees Charlie shuffle towards the parking lot where Steve's truck is parked and looks back at Steve,

"Is she going to be okay?"

Steve grimaces and then shrugs, "No, no she's not."

 **Babes! I know it's been forever but life has gotten so crazy! Anyway this is Chapter 4, get ready for shit to hit the fan in the next chapter. Thank you guys for faithfully sticking to this story and for the wonderful reviews. I absolutely love them! This chapters so long to make up for leaving you guys for so long!**

 **Review are loved!**

 **Xx**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Charlie paces back and forth in the coffee room, her hands enclosed around a steaming cup of coffee, her eyes half shut as the earphones in her ears play her latest negotiation back to her from audio file on her iPod. She listens to the woman's trembling voice demanding to be left alone and her calm tone answering back, listening for any signs that she could've ended the standoff sooner.

It's been three days since her domestic violence case and she's relieved she hasn't been called to one since. She's still having nightmares from it, her coping pattern entailing coffee and 2am nights at the office, the flickering florescent lights above her desk making her headaches a killer as she eyes the half empty bottle of Advil sitting in her top drawer.

She listens to the woman's voice rise and Charlie's calm voice soften and Charlie inhales and exhales as she listens, replaying the scene in her head as she continuous to pace. It's not until she turns around does she see Steve watching her, his arms crossed across his chest as he leans against the doorframe of the coffee room. She pulls one ear bud out of her ear and stops her pacing.

"Sorry I was caught up in… this." Charlie motions to her earphones and iPod, tugging the other earphone out and starting to wrap the chord around the iPod.

"I called your name a couple times but you didn't hear me. I figured I'd just wait till you turned around then startle you."

Charlie grimaces remembering the last time when Steve couldn't get her attention and had touched her shoulder while she was reviewing audio from a case. She had nearly broken his nose at her suddenness to get away. Touches that she wasn't prepared for didn't suit her.

"What do you need?" She grabs the coffee pot and refills her cup, dousing the steaming liquid in sugar, the heat of the coffee radiating through the cup and into her hands.

"Briefing in ten minutes on the 22nd floor. You ready?"

Charlie nods, her nerves steel as she leans her hip against the counter. The briefing was going to be in front of the top FBI agents who were going to be getting a rundown on her techniques as a hostage negotiator to bring back to their own guys in Washington. Being one of the top negotiators in the country with the least casualties they had ever seen had its perks. Many people usually mistaken her for the receptionist or the wife one of the guys, she makes sure that they never make that mistake again.

"I'll change and meet you in 7 minutes."

She trades her worn in blue jeans with the hole in the knee for black highwaisted jeans with a zipper running up the side and a cobalt blue button down top that matches her eyes. Her hair runs loose around her shoulders, waving gently to the middle of her back and as she does a turn in the mirror to make sure everything looks right her heeled black ankle boots click on the tile floor.

She slides her badge into the waistband of her pants and holsters her gun in the specialty holster that was designed for her at the small of her back. Her shirt is tucked in so the gun is visible which is on purpose. Walking into a room of men who have their weapons holstered to their sides that are used as a first resort, she shows her gun is a last resort and that she can hold her own.

Her boots click as she walks down the hall and towards the elevator, nodding at the people she knows as she enters the elevator and rides it to the 22nd floor.

She can already hear the buzz of voices as the steps off and takes a deep breath. She enters the room, ceiling to floor glass windows and chairs set up across the floor and her stool set up right in the middle of the stage at the front of the room. The room is filled with men and a few woman, all talking with cups of coffee in hand, all dressed in standard black slacks and button downs with blazers. People take notice of her attire quite quickly.

She finds her usual seat at the front of the room and crosses her legs, waiting for Steve to find her, preferably with coffee which he does in less than two minutes.

"Big crowd huh?" He hands her a steaming cup of coffee and she accepts it gratefully, taking a cautious sip.

"We've done bigger ones." She smiles a reassuring smile and he pats her knee.

"You'll be great. You always are." He then gets up and grabs the microphone from the table nearby, asking everyone to take their seats.

"Agents, you are here to learn about the newest negotiating techniques that have our casualty rate down to 7%. The only hostage negotiator who has created and has brought this cities casualty rate down to 7% is here to speak with you. Charlie Greyson."

There's applause and she smiles at Steve as she rises from her seat and accepts the microphone with one hand, setting her cup of coffee down on the table on stage beside her. She settles onto the stool and schools her expression to confident before speaking.

"Three years ago I was recruited by Special Agent Steve Cleary because I had a specific type of skill set that he hadn't seen before. Three years ago I met Steve while taking a set of aptitude tests that had been recommended to me by my superiors after I had surpassed their colleagues in my first year of training. I scored in the top 4% range for conflict resolve and was set to train with some of the best in the country in hostage negotiation."

She pauses and lets her words sink in and keeps eye contact with the crowd as she continuous. "Within the first three months I came to understand the type of person it takes to deal with these situations on a daily basis. You need to be calm, you need patience and you need to be willing to take risks. I came to Steve after only four months into training and I told him I didn't think hostage negotiation was for me. I asked Steve to let me handle a situation on my own –unheard of for someone four months into their training, but I needed to know if I could do it, if whatever I thought could be done better would actually work.

"That evening I was called to a hostage situation regarding three men holding hostages in the World Bank. There were seventeen hostages and when the situation was resolved nine hours later, there were seventeen survivors. From then on I was given higher priority assignments to handle on my own along with my own team who have stayed with me for the last three years."

Charlie takes a drink of coffee and relaxes on the stool. "Hostage negotiation means taking a risk every time you get a call. Most of the negotiators I worked with, most of them in the FBI, prefer to work via phone communication where they have a team on standby. I however, prefer to be on the floor with the threat and the hostages. That means walking into a situation clean, no gun, no comm, no vest. That first ten seconds before you walk into the situation is where you find out how ready you are to get shot. Whoever your negotiating with can sense your tension, they're adrenaline is already coursing through them, to come into a situation and act like you're in charge will not only get you shot, it will result in casualties.

"My team thought I was crazy the first time I told them I was walking into a situation clean, but they have now realized that in order to resolve a situation and come across and a non-threat –you have to look like unthreatening."

Charlie spends the next forty minutes discussing the various ways she calms down a threat without using the words _calm down._ When the forty minutes come to a close she takes a sip from her almost empty cup of coffee and stands to stretch her legs.

"Does anyone have any questions?"

Hands shoot up and she point to a younger looking man in a powder blue dress shirt.

"Is it true that you're only 23?"

Charlie internally sighs. This question has the potential to break her entire briefing for just that fact that she is about ten years younger than most of the people in this room, and twenty years younger than any other established hostage negotiator.

"Yes I'm 23. I was recruited when I was nineteen and I was twenty one when was assigned my own team to handle cases. I am the youngest hostage negotiator in the country as well as one of the only five female ones and the only hostage negotiator in Chicago."

When she says this she isn't bragging, it's fact. Being the youngest in the country and female has its downturns and she experiences them at least once a day, she has the right to state what she's capable of.

Another man raises his hand and she points at him.

"What made you decide you wanted to be a hostage negotiator?"

"At first it was because the tests that I took told me that I would be an ideal candidate but the more calls I took that had me in the middle of crisis's, the more I realized I had found where I belong. Hostage negotiation is the chance to stop a turn of events just by being there. Domestic violence, victims held at gunpoint in a bank or trapped on an airplane, they didn't ask to be there, there is nowhere else they would rather be. But being a hostage negotiator means taking the chance to save those lives, to intervene in the courses of evil and get a little justice."

The man raises his hand again and Charlie shrugs off the annoyance, masking it with a polite smile as she nods to him.

"But what _moment_ made you decide that that was where you belonged?"

Charlie hates this question, the exact moment sticking to her brain like tar and she stares down the man asking the question.

"What's your name?"

"Adam." He almost looks smug when he speaks and she wants to punch the smile off his face.

"What division of the FBI are you apart of Adam?"

"I just finished at Quantico."

He says this with a smug smile too and she sits on the stool as she stares at him.

"And you're interested in hostage negotiation?"

He nods, "I seems interesting, like it's never boring."

"How old are you Adam?" she asks and when he tells her he's twenty four she smirks.

"It was a freezing cold day in November when I got a call saying that I was needed. I wasn't even on call, but no one else wanted to take this case because of the way it would appear to the public eye if they failed. I remember showing up at the station and Steve, he had this look in his eye, almost like he was scared for me.

Anyway I rode with the team to this tiny little neighborhood where this rundown brick house sat on the corner of this forgotten road. As soon as the engine shut off in the car you could hear the screams that came from the house. Inside was two little girls and they're mother and the mother's ex-husband. The day in November was Remembrance Day and he had just returned from Afghanistan after a three year tour. He had such extreme PTSD he had almost killed her in the middle of the night while thinking he was in combat and then had gone to his daughters room to take care of them as well. She had told him that he needed to leave because she feared for her and her daughter's safety. I sat on their cement steps for almost three hours in the freezing cold trying to talk him into letting me inside when a rookie agent that had just graduated decided that he could do my job better than me.

You see the FBI had sent him here because he was interested in hostage negotiating and thought some real world experience would do him good, too see if he really had what it took to spend seven hours talking to someone standing on the top floor of a building and watching them step off the ledge in front of you.

Anyway he had his sniper positioned as backup from our other sniper and this rookie decides to take the shot, without my order, trying to be the hero. It turns out the father was so paranoid that he installed bulletproof glass into their living room window."

Charlie stares down the man and watches him squirm.

He fired that shot and less than a minute later I kicked down the door of that house to watch that man put a bullet into his wife and two daughters before killing himself. His daughters names were Ava and Lena, they were five and seven. His wife's name was Meredith."

She looks around the room at the sullen faces in the crowd and feels the ache in her chest.

"You're right," She looks at the man who looks embarrassed, "it's never boring. Just remember, one wrong move and you could take away someone's happiness. If you're not careful enough, if you're not patient enough, if you're in it for the spotlight. You will kill someone and it will haunt you. I've been doing this for four years and have had twelve casualties and I still see their faces every time I get called. They never leave you. If you can't live with the fact that their blood will be on your hands, then don't even think about doing this job."

She stares down that man one more time and then gets up and walks off the stage, mindful of the men watching her in a newfound wave of acceptance.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Bass stands to the side of the room, his body one of many in the group of people who are standing close together talking. He looks down at the tar colored liquid in the styrofoam cup and swears it tastes how it looks. He takes a sip anyway.

The room is divided into two groups, the veterans of the FBI, the ones who have served more than ten years and have sacrificed some of the biggest parts of their lives to get where they are. And then there are the rookies the green agents who have been with the bureau less than a year and the trainees fresh out of Quantico, hopeful and eager and a little too cocky.

Bass tries to listen to the story that's being told in front of him but his mind continuously wanders back to Charlie.

Unexpected. That's what she's become to him.

Her briefing was strong, powerful, and breathtaking. She always seems to have an aura of confidence around her, her gaze unwavering as she spoke, her voice bold and her back straight with the eyes of every man in the room on her.

Charlie was unlike anyone he had ever persuade, sure he had dated cops before but Charlie wasn't anything those cops. Those cops were rough and uneasy to relax around him, as though their work personality never left them. The other woman he had dated could never understand the life he led, the late nights, sudden trips halfway across the continent at a moment's notice and more missed dates than he cared to think about.

Charlie was unlike anyone he had ever tried to date and he was already wondering if they could make it.

The other group filled with young men burst into boisterous laughter and Bass listens just in time to hear "-fucking hot piece of ass though."

Bass's fists clench because he knows exactly who they're talking about.

"I would make her ask me before I fucked her. I mean she's a hostage negotiator, I bet she's good at _asking._ "

Bass storms over to their group, grabbing the collar of the man with the big mouth, finding it was the man who asked Charlie how old she was.

"Agent Dawson, you have a big mouth on you don't you?"

The man smirks at him and shrugs, " _Special_ Agent Monroe, I don't know what you think you heard…"

"You want to have seven ways to Sunday, but Agent Greyson is not someone you _ever_ talk about wanting ever again. Agent Greyson has killed for this country, she has sacrificed for this country, and she has watched people die in front of her. Tell me, how much have you done for your country?"

Bass leans in close, "I hear you say anything but how good of an agent Greyson is and I will personally make sure you never see the outside of a cubicle for the tiny length of your unmeasurable career."

Bass pushes him away and stalks out of the room, his feet hitting the tiled floor at a punishing pace as he heads to Steve's office. The elevator door opens and he steps in, his hands running though his hair and he exhales. He's going to have to face Charlie.

He exits the elevator and is about to step into the bullpen when he spots Charlie, her hands gesturing wildly in the air as Steve and her stand in his office with the door closed, Steve looking slightly chagrin and if Bass didn't know what this was about he might find it amusing that the supervising agent was actually getting a scolding from someone twenty years his junior. Unfortunately Bass knows exactly what their arguing about. He's about to turn around and leave, let Charlie sit on the fact that someone is joining her two year investigation and show up tomorrow hoping for less anger than he sees now but Steve spots him and waves him over and as Bass starts to walk Charlie turns around and her eyes lock with his.

She masks it exceptionally well but Bass sees her the anger flare like fire in her eyes even as the smile sit's crookedly on her lips. She looks… welcoming, unruffled, and if Bass hasn't seen her arguing with Steve moments ago he would have thought that she always knew he was coming. But the fire that is burning its way through her blue eyes is something he can't help but feel as a kick to the gut because under the fury he sees what he feared. Betrayal.

"Charlie," Steve runs his hand over his mouth before continuing, "This is Sebastian Monroe, and he's the one that will be assisting you with your case from now on.

Bass lets Charlie make the first move and is surprised when she sticks out her hand and when he sticks his out she shakes it firmly, her hand small and delicate with callouses on the palm of her hand.

"I look forward to it." Charlie says, the smile still on her lips and Bass looks to Steve wondering if he feels as shocked as Bass does but instead Steve is shooting daggers at Charlie with his eyes, his mouth in a thin line of unimpressed.

"Well gentlemen, I have lives to save, paperwork to do, so if there's nothing else I'm going to get back to it."

She doesn't wait for an answer instead leaving Steve's office with the slight slam of the door behind her. Bass watches her leave, her long legs carrying her across the bullpen as she grabs her jacket from the back of her chair, her cellphone now to her ear from wherever she had it before.

Bass takes a seat in one of the leather chairs that sit vacant in Steve's office.

"Well she took that better than I expected."

"One thing you need to know about Charlie," Steve leans back in his oversized chair looking exhausted, "she'll take everything better than you expected, it doesn't mean she's going to leave it alone."

"What do you mean?' Bass asks him and Steve almost looks amused at his dumbfoundment. 

"Right now she's calling her friends in Washington, trying to see if they can get you pulled from this case, she won't do anything dirty but she'll call in favors with people if she wants you gone bad enough –which trust me she does. If that doesn't work she's going to continue to work on the case but leave you out of the loop, leave you one step behind her until you give up and ask if you can be reassigned and if that doesn't work she will reach out to anyone and everyone in this city who owes her anything including her CI's and will make sure that she's the only one getting any information." 

"So what do I do?" Bass is a grown man but this woman is on a vendetta unlike anything he's ever dealt with and he's already at a loss.

"Talk to her. Let her see that she can trust you. To Charlie it's more than something saying they promise something or they'll be there or they have her back. Charlie started young enough that most tried to take advantage of her at every opportunity they had. Charlie doesn't do trust with many people. Charlie's had her team for almost three years and she still doesn't fully trust them. She won't believe you when you say she can trust you or you'll have her back. She's going to push you away –hard. So push back. Show her you're going to have her back whether she likes it or not."

Bass gets up and leaves Steve's office looking for Charlie as he winds his way through the bullpen down the hallways and twenty two floors down to the lobby, spotting her off to the side showing her badge to the security guard who barely looks at it and smiles at something she says.

"Charlie!" Bass calls her name and watches her shoulder tense as a full watt smile is plastered on her face when she turns around before touching the security guard on the shoulder and leaving through the revolving doors, forcing Bass to sprint after her, shoving his pass in the guards face impatiently before running after her.

"Charlie can I just talk to you for a minute?" His voice is a rasp as he yells at her from behind and she stops without turning around and he can almost see the wheels turning in her head. Finally she turns around, her face impassive as stone as she stares at him.

Bass approaches her like a hunter approaches their prey and he sees he subtly tense up and he exhales harshly.

"Can we please sit?" He gestures to the stone benches lining the walkway of the building and she stares at him for another moment before she walks over to a bench and sits, her arms wrapped around her waist like she's protecting herself.

"I should have told you I was FBI." He feels the knot in his stomach ease slightly from his confession.

"I knew you were FBI the moment I met you."

He sits back shocked and looks at her impassive face, feeling his face turn into stone like hers at her words.

"How did you know?"

She tilts her head and looks at him, the sun turning her eyes glaringly crystal blue.

"It's not obvious if that's what you're worried about. You were scanning the diner when I walked in, looking for perceivable threats. When a car backfired outside you reached for your hip where your gun would be, on the right side because you're right handed. You actually came to that neighborhood which means you're not a local cop because no local cop would dare to step foot in that area off duty. You also took the table that would let you sit with your back to the wall so you could see the entire diner. Now FBI doesn't have jurisdiction in Chicago, but if you were CIA then you would have lied to my face at the beginning because that's what the CIA agents do, they lie. And I can tell when someone is lying to me. So that leaves Homeland Security, DEA and FBI. DEA wouldn't be able to stand this neighborhood, and you didn't seem bothered by the guy snorting coke outside the diner which means you aren't DEA. Homeland doesn't come to Chicago unless it's for high level briefings which I haven't been called to which means you couldn't be Homeland. So FBI."

Bass feels like an open book when she looks at him, impressed by her perception and uncomfortable at the same time.

"And you didn't say anything."

Bass says this with a twinge of anger in his voice and she looks back at him unflinching.

"It's none of my damn business to make you tell me about something you didn't choose to bring up. If you didn't want to bring it up then there was a reason that I chose to leave alone."

Bass sighs and leans back into the bench, feeling the cold stone soak into his clothes.

"I didn't know you were Charlie Greyson."

Charlie is silent, her eyes looking straight ahead and her back straight.

"Well now you do."

Bass touches her arm and feel her tense beneath his fingers. He removes his hand immediately.

"Look I'm not asking you to trust me, you won't even if I do ask. But I hope you believe me when I say I want to catch this guy as much as you do. And I can't even begin to try and help if you shut me out."

Charlie doesn't look at him and he waits, waits for her to give him a response, any response.

"You're in over your head.'

Bass feels frustration coil up inside of him and feels some of it lash out onto her when he speaks.

"This guy hits a new bank every three months in a different country at a different time. He kills all his hostages and has taken almost seventeen million from the banks he's hit. You shutting me out will let him get another score with more innocent people dead."

Charlie head whips around and he sees the fury burn in her eyes.

"New Hampshire, bank robbery with seven dead. Brooklyn, twelve dead. Delaware, six dead. San Diego, nineteen dead. New Jersey, eleven dead. Washington DC, fourteen dead. Manhattan, eight dead. Kansas, five dead.

"Our year report has a hostage negotiators official number of deaths they've had that year, if their death count exceeds a certain number their job is terminated and someone steps in to replace them. Officially my death count is eighteen. My actual death count is seventy two and this case that you were sent here to consult on is unofficial."

"Why?" Bass's voice is hoarse as the number seventy two echoes in his head, seventy two people. Seventy two deaths.

"New Hampshire was the first location they hit. The report says they got away with three million and there were seven hostages and seven deaths which is untrue. There were eight hostages in the bank that day, the eighth one was me. The man who masterminded these heists started to fixate on me, which is the whole reason for these bank robberies. I was called to the first one and from then on, every three months he robs another bank, every three months he kills another round of hostages."

Bass looks at her puzzled, "I've seen the reports on you. You've taken down men with automatics in their hands, men with bombs strapped to their chest and the detonator in their hand, you've taken them down without hesitation, why haven't you done the same thing here?"

"These men robbing the banks weren't the ones who planned it, they weren't even aware of what they were really doing there most of the time. Every time they rob a bank its new men and every time we take them in they have no new information about who hired them.

This case is unofficial because making it official would mean reporting to the public that there is a bank robber out there that we haven't been able to catch, the public would panic and it would only be a matter of time before I was called off cases for the fear that I would compromise the safety of people in any kind of situation."

"I wasn't aware of this. I'm sorry." Bass touches her arm again and she doesn't pull away this time.

"Losing my first hostage was hard, watching them get killed in front of you takes away a piece of you. Seventy two people dead because of me, that's a hell of a lot of pieces he's taken."

"Believe me Charlie," She looks at him and she looks hallow and exhausted, "believe that I will do everything I can to help you stop him. Believe me and I'll prove to you that you can trust me."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Bass watches Charlie across the bullpen, her knees pulled up to her chest, the heels of her feet resting on the edge of her creaky roller chair. Her eyes dart between the files on her desk, her mouth moving as she makes notes as the other hand props her head up.

It's nearly 8pm on a Friday and Bass can think of a dozen places he would rather be than sitting in the bullpen finishing paperwork, but Charlie seems in no rush to leave, so neither is he. He takes another gulp of lukewarm bitter coffee and proceeds to make another note in the file he's reviewing, glancing up occasionally to check on Charlie who never seems to change positions, the only way to tell she's moved is the way her hair grows more hazardous as the night wears on, her hair going from sleek curls to sex hair in a matter of hours.

Bass can feel a headache start to come on and he pushes away from his desk with a sigh, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Here." Charlie tosses him a bottle of Advil and he catches it gratefully, downing two pills with the rest of his coffee and praying that this pounding in his head will ease. Charlie's team works hard, but Charlie works the hardest by far, never leaving before 11pm and always being there before 6 every morning. She's respected, even by the highest members on the force, but she doesn't talk much to anyone unless it's giving an order and even those are infrequent.

Food. He needs food in order to keep his brain functioning.

"Hey," Bass waits till Charlie looks at him, half curious and half irked that he interrupted her.

"Let's go get some food.'

Charlie shrugs and goes back to making notes, "I'm not hungry. You go ahead."

"Charlie, all you've eaten today is a muffin and a handful of m&m's. You need actual food."

She sighs and looks at the clock and when she looks back at him her expression is resigned.

"Fine, but then we come back and keep working."

It's a victory, albeit a small one but Bass nods as he stands up to stretch his legs and waits impatiently as Charlie makes one more note before setting her pen down. She stands fluidly and reaches her arms above her head, the curve of her spine growing more pronounced with the thin grey tank top and skinny jeans she's wearing.

"Ready?" Bass is hungry and the need for food makes him more snappy than usual.

She nods and they fall into step beside each other, the silence weary and stiff between them as they wait for the elevator.

They ride down in silence, Charlie breaking her somber mood to flash a smile at the night guard as she flashes her badge as Bass follows behind her.

The night air is chilly and goosebumps appear on Charlie's skin and she shivers before looking up at him.

"Anything in particular you want?"

"It's your city. Anywhere you think is decent will work."

Charlie bites her bottom lips and looks hesitantly up at him. "I know a place but we're not exactly dressed for it. Best steaks in town if you like steak though."

Bass grins at her and watches a small blush spread across her cheeks.

"They won't mind that we're not dressed to par?"

Charlie shrugs, "They've never minded before."

"Then steak sounds perfect. Lead the way."

Charlie nods in relief and starts to walk down the sidewalk, her hands stuffed into her jean pockets.

"Any plans this weekend?"

Charlie shrugs, "Paperwork. This is my first weekend in two months off call so I'm going to advantage of it."

"And do what?" Bass prods and watches Charlie look at him for a moment.

"Sleep." There's a laugh that escapes her and he can't help but chuckle too.

"You?" Charlie asks him, envious of how open his expression is.

"Not too much either. Cynthia is in the city to check out a sculpture from a local artist so I'll spend a few hours catching up with her, maybe catch a movie or something too."

Charlie nods and they continue walking.

"What kind of movies do you like?"

Charlie looks up at him in surprise and he shrugs. "Everyone likes movies Charlie. What kind do you like?"

She sighs and stuffs her hands deeper into her pockets and stares thoughtfully up at the sky.

"Comedies. Our job has so much… hurt, it's nice to be able to laugh every once in a while. Action if it's been a good week, even if they sometimes hit too close to home. Never horror, I never understood the appeal of voluntarily watching something in the hopes that it will scare the shit out of you."

"So comedy, then action. No romance drama?"

Charlie lets out a snort and Bass can't help the grin that breaks through.

"Drama, yes. Nothing melodramatic, just good old heart wrenching storylines. Romance, no. I've never really found any appeal in it. Cliché stories with cliché endings."

"So there's no romance in your life?"

Bass knows he's crossing the line from polite questioning into personal but he waits for an answer anyway.

"What about you? What kind of movies do you like?"

She changes the subject smoothly –albeit unsubtly and he gets the hint to back off.

"Action is always a go to genre. You can't really go wrong with things blowing up. Comedy is always good, as long as it's clever humor."

"What about drama and romance?" Charlie asks him smirking at his glare that he shoots her.

"Drama and romance yes."

"Really?" Charlie doesn't keep the skeptism out of her voice as she eyes him.

Bass avoids eye contact and keeps his face impassive as he talks.

"I like to think that there's someone out there for everyone."

Charlie snorts and looks up at him. "What, like a soulmate?"

"Not that cheesy." He looks down at her and arches an eyebrow, "Someone who knows you; I mean really knows you."

Charlie is silent for a moment and then softly says, "What are you looking for?"

Bass stares at her and watches how she meets his eyes briefly for a moment before focusing on the sidewalk in front of them and he wishes that she wouldn't look away.

Charlie thinks he isn't going to answer and can't dispute the fact that she avoided his question so there's no reason for him to answer hers and resigns herself to the silence.

"I answer this question and then you answer mine.'

Charlie realizes the bargain he's making and tries to hide the smile that threatens to break through at his negotiating skills.

She nods and waits in anticipation for his answer, the cold making everything inside of her almost heightened.

"I'm looking for someone I can trust. Someone strong. Someone at peace with themselves. Someone better than me. Someone who knows the... worst side of me and still loves me."

Charlie swallows hard and refuses to look at him when she feels him looking at her, the implication that he's waiting for her to answer his earlier question a ringing reminder.

"Charlie,"

She looks up at him and then shrugs, "Let's go inside first and order a drink."

Bass realizes that they've walked nearly eight blocks when he turns to see an upscale restaurant to his left, the glass window letting him get a glimpse of the suits and ties of the men and dresses the woman wear inside.

"Charlie, they're not going to let us in looking like this."

This time she smirks, and looks at him in a challenge. "Come in with me and find out."

Bass sighs but follows her inside, watching her slip a fifty dollar bill to the waiter. His eyes linger a little too long on Charlie and if she notices she doesn't seem to care as she grins cockily at him and then motions for him to follow her through the crowd of people to the booth in the far corner.

Charlie slides in first into the leather booth, sliding into the far end so she can see the entire restaurant.

The waiter waits patiently for Bass to sit and then places the menus down on the table.

"Whiskey Miss. Greyson?"

Charlie smiles the kind of smile that Bass knows gets men hard in seconds and resists the urge to glare at the waiter.

"Please Matthew, and he'll have the same."

The waiter looks over at Bass almost like he forgot he was there and his smile disappears replaced with something close to disappointment even as he nods and disappears to get their drinks.

Charlie's gaze flicks over him before her lips curve into an amused smile. "He's harmless."

"Not your type?"

Charlie starts to laugh and then runs her fingers over the menu as she looks at him. "No, definitely not my type."

Matthew chooses that moment to reappear and this time Bass can't help but glare at him as he sets two glasses of whiskey down on the table.

"Are you ready to order?" He doesn't even look at Bass, his eyes trained solely on Charlie and her infectious smile.

Charlie looks at Bass and he smiles at her, watching Matthews smile fade.

"You said steaks were good here?"

She nods, "The best."

Bass rubs his hands together and then stares down the waiter. "Sounds excellent."

The waiters voice is monotone as he asks how he wants it done and Bass can't help feeling a small amount of victory at something so petty.

"And you Miss?"

Charlie smiles but it's less open this time as she orders, her face opening up slightly when he leaves.

"So he's not your type…" Bass prods again and then takes a sip of whiskey, savoring the warm burn that fills him.

Charlie smirks and takes hold of her whiskey glass, leaning back into the booth, the glass sitting lightly on her knee.

"Dating in this profession is… well difficult to put it nicely. We're called away at a moment's notice, we're put in situations where we can't guarantee that we'll be coming home. We work fifteen hour days most of the week and it's the kind of work that everyone carries around with them when they leave."

Bass watches her take a sip of her whiskey and waits till she looks at him. "You haven't found anyone that understands that?"

She shrugs and plays with the rim of her glass. "Understands it? I guess in a way. I've dated men, even cops who understand what I do and what it takes for me to do it, but none of them have ever liked it."

Bass must look confused because she shakes her head immediately afterwards.

"I guess _like_ isn't the right word. No one would like not knowing if their significant other was coming home that night, or ever. I mean the people I've dated have never understood why _I_ do it. That's the problem. It's a dangerous job, more dangerous than almost any other job on the force. It's also one of the most highly respected jobs, most challenging and most rewarding jobs, and the question whenever I mention what I do is usually " _why would a nice girl like you want to do that job?"_ I don't do it because its fun, I do it because it matters, because of the difference I can make. More of a difference than a lot of job on the force."

Bass nods and realizes why there's such a snarky wall around her. There's no wonder then all men have done is question her choices.

"So what are you looking for Charlie?"

She smiles and it's almost sad and wistful.

"Someone who doesn't let me run when things get hard. Someone who loves me, even when they hate me. Someone I can come home to and knows that there are some things words can't fix. Someone who loves what they do and understands that I love what I do, are that there are no promises that I can keep; about what tie I'll be home or if I'll make it to dinner or that I won't get shot. I can't keep any of those promises. Someone who is kind, and strong and wants the most out of their life. And someone who loves me enough to stay in mine."

She looks at Bass and her eyes are a cloudy sort of blue and grey.

"That's all I'm looking for Bass. _Someone."_


	8. Chapter 8

Charlie feels warm. Content. Like she did before everything changed and she became Charlie Greyson. Before she became untouchable.

Her fourth glass of whiskey rests snugly in her palm and she watches Bass watching her with a kind of tenderness that she's only seen occasionally in her uncle when she was a child. God she misses Miles. She misses the way his eyes would light up when she would tell him a joke or make a snarky comment that was so identical to him it only could come from spending endless amounts of time together. She misses Nora and her smooth voice, sitting on Charlie's living room floor as they watched movies together. She misses feeling safe.

Miles knows her job, knows it because he's done it. But she knows it kills him to be out of contact with her for weeks –even months –all in an effort to protect them. Different last name. Different phone number every month. Security precautions up the ass to be able to see each other for an hour. Especially now.

Charlie eyes Bass as he watches her and she remembers the man from her childhood who watched over her almost as much as Miles did. God has he changed. It's been almost seven years since she saw him and the fact that he hasn't recognized her means that everything's changed more than she's ever realized it would. He looks rougher, the lines around his mouth and eyes defined and his beard nonexistent anymore. He seems at peace now, the version of Bass from seven years ago a hazy memory that was constantly at war with himself. The man in front of her is solid, peaceful and steady.

Charlie runs a hand through her hair and wonders how long it took him to find peace. She feels it inside of her sometimes –the uncontrollable rage that fills her and she has no place to put it except for into her fist, her knuckles scarred almost horrendously from her pounding a brick wall after a call. At least it was a brick wall and not a person -she can control her rage enough that hitting people are a thing of her sealed past.

She remembers her past far too clearly and she wears it too often on the job that it has to be kept in a steel box inside her chest where it can never escape outside of the job.

Charlie sees Bass staring at her and can't help the smile that creeps onto her lips.

"What?" She asks him, her eyebrow arching in a challenge of a good answer and he grins in response before shaking his head.

"You are the most intriguing woman I have ever known."

"Oh yeah?" She teases him and he smirks at her.

"You're a mystery to me." He says, his eyes glowing when he talks before they turn nostalgic. "You remind me of a friend."

Charlie feels a clenching in her gut but plasters on a smile anyway.

"Yeah? Who's the friend?"

Bass doesn't seem to pick up on the trepidation in her voice, instead his face warming with memories.

"Miles. He's my best friend. You remind me of him." Bass's eyes are glazed over with whiskey and happiness and Charlie can't help but smile.

"How so?" She's curious of the answer and props her chin on her fist and leans in close to him across the table.

"You're both… puzzling. And snarky." He grins at that. "And so damn stubborn. His niece is probably like that."

"His niece?" Charlie keeps her voice steady, as her insides ride the shock out that he remembered her.

"Yeah, you would like her. I haven't seen her in years but if she's anything like I remember then you would like her. Everyone does. Miles told me she's backpacking around Ireland right now."

Charlie hears the wave of sadness in his voice and decides to pry further.

"You knew her well?"

At this Bass shrugs almost noncommittal. "For a time yeah. She had a shitty childhood and when she came to stay with Miles she was this tough kid who wouldn't ask for anything. It took Miles damn near a year to break down all her wall –but fuck when he did? That girl had a heart of gold. You could never find anyone who compared. But then again she's a Matheson –that's her last name. Special is in their nature."

"She was special to you?" At this Charlie's voice wavers and she masks it by taking a drink.

Bass doesn't answer for a moment and she watches him study the table in front of him – a stalling tactic that failed subtlety.

"She had all this anger when she was a kid, you could see it in her eyes when something happened that reminded her of her childhood. Miles used to call me to pick her up from school detention because she had hit kids in her class. No fear, just anger from them hitting her soft spot."

Charlie remembers those moments vividly, Bass's look of concern when he had come all those times to pick her up and his snappy _maybe you should teach kids to watch their mouths_ to the teacher when she had tried to tell Bass that Charlie had issues. No shit she had issues.

"I remember her parents."

Charlie can't breathe at the mention of her parents and tries not to start shaking, the familiar spouts of anger starting to thrum through her veins.

"They had this kid, Danny. He was a sweet kid sure, a little too doted on but he was only a toddler, you couldn't blame that on him. Especially when they found out he was sick. But here they have this daughter who is only what- six? Seven maybe. And when they find out their son is sick what do they do? Drop the girl off at Miles and tell him they'll be back when they're done finding treatment for Danny.

Charlie knows how this story ends and feels the familiar dropping of her heart.

"They promise they'll be back as soon as they find a treatment for Danny, saying that flying around the world is no way for a little girl to have to live. They say if they don't find anything in two weeks they'll come back. But two weeks turns into a month, then two, then six. This little girl spends two years without her parents coming to visit her once. Then suddenly one weekend the girl's mother shows up on Mile's doorstep. Rachel -that's her name. Mile's refuses to let her see Charlie given that it's been two years that they haven't even heard from them. Rachel claims that she came back to see Charlie, but then again -she's had two years. After an hour of yelling at her Mile's finds out the real reason Rachel came back –because Danny needed a bone marrow transplant and neither Rachel nor Ben –that's the girl's father – are a match. But she is."

Bass scrubs his hand over his face and his eyes have the hazy glint of being lost in remembering, so lost he's oblivious to Charlie looking pale as a ghost and shaking as he speaks.

"She's fucking rambling on and on about how Charlie can save Danny and then they can be a family again. Honest to god, if this girl saves her brother then she can be part of a family that left her. I'm sitting with this girl on her bed, her knees pulled to her chest and I know she can hear every word of what's being said and no matter how many times I try to distract her she just keeps staring at the door, listening to them yelling. But when she hears that Danny will die without a transplant, she loses it, tearing through the house to find her mom and Miles has to hold her back from Rachel. She's shaking, and you can almost see the air around her vibrate from how angry she is, and Rachel is almost looking scared as she looks at her daughter as the words pour out of her mouth about being a family if she helps Danny. And you'll never believe what she says to Rachel."

But Charlie will, because she knows exactly what she said.

She said " _Miles and Bass love me."_ And Rachel looked confused as what that had to do with anything and then she drops a bomb in the house. She says _'I'll help Danny but then you don't come back."_ And Mile's face is pure relief that she isn't going with Rachel until Rachel pulls the _'I love you'_ line and the look in this kids eyes is heartbreaking. And then she grabs onto Mile's hand like it's a lifeline and looks right at Rachel and says _"But you love Danny more."_ And Rachel had no answer to that, I mean of course she didn't. She left her kid with her brother in law for two years without seeing her. There are no words to justify that. Especially when I found out that Rachel leaving was actually a godsend for Charlotte when Mile's told me what Rachel had done to her."

Charlie can't breathe, can't even move as she feels the pounding of her heart fill her ears. Panic, pure panic that she hasn't felt in years settles into her veins like lead and her hands clench into fists, her blunt nails digging into her palms and drawing blood.

"You know."

"What? What do I know Charlie?"

She hears pure confusion in his voice but she can't even look at him as she lifts her deadweight of a body out of the booth, almost tripping over her own feet and feels Bass's hand close around her arm.

"Hey, you okay?"

She wants to hit the concern out of him and instead settles for ripping her arm out of his grasp. "Don't touch me." She spits out, her hands shaking violently as her pulls a hundred dollar bill out of her pocket and throws it on the table.

"Charlie what the hell is going on?"

She can see the concern brewing in his eyes when she finally looks at him before she runs out of the restaurant, passing the waiter who looks alarmed at her as she runs by. She runs, the ice air making her shake as she runs, past the office buildings and through alleys. She runs until she can't feel her legs anymore, then she settles for walking. She can feel the anger brewing inside her like a coiled spring, just waiting to be released and she pulls out her cellphone and dials the number by heart.

"Yes?" She hears the familiar dull monotone voice on the other end and speaks impatiently.

"Matheson, access code: Golden Angels."

"One moment." The shrill beeping that connects her call echoes in her ear and she paces the alley in frustration.

"Charlie?"

She hears the worried voice of her uncle on the other end has to bite her tongue till she tastes blood to keep from crying.

"You told him."

"Told who what?" Miles's voice has the same confusion as Bass's did and she tries to reign in her anger to make coherent sentences.

"You told Bass what Rachel did to me?"

Her voice is almost a whisper and she hears the silence grow on the other end and her pacing increases.

"How do you know this Charlie?"

"Bass told me."

"He told you?! What is going on?" Miles's voice bleeds worry and she wants to tell him to stuff his worry.

"Steve hired Bass to consult on my case. He's been here for the last two weeks."

"And he knows who you are?"

Charlie lets out a frustrated sigh and runs a hand through her hair. "No, he said I reminded him of you. And then he said that he's sure that your niece is just like you. Me Miles. And then he fucking knew things about me that only you know. Like what Rachel _did to me._ He fucking knows Miles!"

This time the silence on the other end isn't worried, its guilt and it only feeds Charlie's anger.

"You told him didn't you?"

Mile's sighs and Charlie can only imagine him pouring a drink and scrubbing his face with his hands.

"Charlie, it was never supposed to get back to you. You have to understand, you were only seven and the things you told me about what Rachel did to you? I couldn't process that, let alone know how to help you. I needed to tell someone who would be there for you and know what you were fighting against. And Bass never judged, just listened and was there for you as much as I was."

"I told you! I never told Bass or Nora. Only you. That was my secret to share, not yours! How am I supposed to go into work and look at him now, knowing that he knows?!"

"Charlie… he won't judge you for it. He'll want to be there for you. Let him."

"Fuck you Miles." She snarls into the phone before hanging up on him, the rage taking over as her hands start to shake frantically.

"Fuck!" She screams, her phone dropping the cement as her hands curl into fists and she punches the brick building in front of her, her knuckles splitting open with the impact. She keeps hitting away anyway, the sharp sting only powering her until her hands are numb and her knuckles are a smeared crimson and violet mess. They'll heal, unlike the mess inside of her.

She stares at her phone on the ground for a moment before picking it up and slipping it into her back pocket before starting the long walk to her apartment, intent on drinking until she can't feel anything.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Bass sits in the booth feeling numb. Charlie Greyson is Charlotte Matheson and he doesn't know what to do.

The ringing of his phone breaks him from his astonished trance to see Miles's name pop up on his call display and he answers without hesitation.

"Miles… hey."

"What the fuck did you do Bass?"

Bass feels a sinking in his gut and takes a drink of whiskey to settle his nerves.

"I didn't know Miles. I swear to god I didn't know it was Charlotte."

"You really fucked things up Bass."

"Miles… what the hell is going on? You told me Charlotte was backpacking across Europe when she's what, working for the cops and getting hunted?"

"Bass…." He can only imagine Miles having to sit down, a glass of hard liquor in his hand and his face weary.

"Charlie chose this. I was still there when Steve recruited her and I tried to talk her out of it, I did. But she needed something to channel everything into and she aced the tests better than I even did. She's damn good at what she does Bass. Too good."

"Why wouldn't you just tell me she was working for the cops?"

There's an audible pause and Bass feels the tensions rising between them. "For god sakes Miles just spit it out."

"You left her."

And just like that Bass's stomach drops.

"You never said anything to me about her when I left." Bass's voice cracks and he runs a harsh hand through his hair feeling the oncoming headache.

"She never said anything to me. Didn't want to talk about you, didn't want to talk _to_ you. Nothing. That year after you left was hell with her, old wounds resurfacing shit."

"I had to leave Miles. I was no good for her anyway. I mean you know what kind of jobs the bureau had me on, I could barely be around you let alone Charlie."

Bass feels drained and he finishes his glass of whiskey in one gulp. "Did she know it was me when I showed up a couple weeks ago?"

"Yeah she knew. I guess she realized that you didn't recognize her and decided to keep it that way. I just found out twenty minutes ago."

Bass almost drops his phone and has to use a death grip to keep it to his ear. "Wait… she just called you?"

"She's not with you?" This time Mile's voice carries through alarmed and Bass feels the same worry flood through him.

"Bass…."

"Don't worry man, I'll find her."

"Hurry." Miles grits out. "She isn't the girl you remember. She seems fine but her past can make her self-destruct. Those memories haven't left her, they've only been tamped down. You'll find her at her apartment."

Bass hangs up after memorizing the address Miles tells him and takes Charlie's hundred dollar bill off the table, throwing his own hundred instead and takes off in a run. He's unfamiliar with Chicago and hails a cab, reciting the address in a monotone voice as his foot taps impatiently on the muddy floor of the cab, almost sighing in relief when it finally pulls up to a tall brick building.

Bass tosses a few bills to the driver and jumps out, scanning the directory until he finds Greyson Room 113.

Bass holds his breath as he hold down the button, hearing the beeping as he waits for Charlie to answer.

"Yes?" Her voice echoes distorted through the speaker and he almost chickens out.

"Charlotte it's me."

Silence. Unbearable silence and the sound of her breathing.

"Go away Bass."

"Charlotte I swear to god if you don't let me up I will buzz every single one of these rooms till someone lets me in and I won't go away."

It's not a bluff and he knows she knows it because the door buzzing as it unlocks allowing him entrance makes him sigh in relief.

He bounds the steps to the thirteenth floor and when he reaches her door he knocks.

The door swings open giving him a view of Charlie dressed in leggings and a tank top, makeup off and hair a mess, her blue eyes burning with anger.

"Miles gave me your address." Bass says, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Oh Miles told you? Fucking great. It seems like Miles tells you a lot of things he shouldn't." She says, spinning on her heel to grab the bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter.

"Charlotte…"

That's when she snaps, her eyes blazing as she turns on him and he's reminded of the anger he used to see in her.

"Charlie." She spits out. "It's only Charlie now."

He watches her grab the bottle and take a pull and sees the crimson and purple gashes on her knuckles.

"Charlie… what the hell did you do?"

Indifference settles in her eyes, the look that he saw when she was on a call and he knows it will do no good to lecture her. He doesn't hold that right anymore anyway.

"You knew who I was the first time we met."

"That you were FBI." Charlie says it in a bored tone like they've been over this a million times and Bass has to count to ten to reign in his temper.

"No, that you knew it was me."

Charlie's shoulders are high with tension and she shrugs, "And if I did?"

"I would ask you why you didn't just tell me."

She's quiet and Bass would almost mistake it for remorse if he hadn't known Charlie all those years. Quiet means that she was planning her next words very carefully and whoever was on the receiving end of those words should be very afraid.

"I was curious to see how you were. You didn't know it was me and I liked that. I was no one who could have mattered."

Bass scoffs and walks into her apartment, slamming the door behind him. "If I hadn't brought up Miles would you have ever told me it was you?"

"No." The answer is immediate and it stings. Bass grabs the bottle of whiskey from Charlie's hands and takes a long pull.

"You left Bass. I don't owe you anything." Her words hit low and he slams the bottle harshly on the counter, nearly breaking it in the process.

"Fuck you Charlie. You have no idea what I was going through. I could barely get an hours sleep let alone be there for you. You have no idea what cases I was on or how fucking hard it was to keep it together."

"No!" Charlie screams at him and he takes a step back from her, well aware of what happens when Charlie gets angry.

"You chose to leave, don't give me that bullshit that you didn't have a choice! Everyone leaves me. You listened to Miles give Rachel shit for leaving and a couple years later where the hell are you? I don't hear from you, I don't get a goodbye not even a fucking phone call. I don't hear from you for seven years and now you think you have any right to have an opinion on my life."

"Charlotte…"

"Call me Charlotte again and I'll make sure you won't be talking for a while."

"Charlie…" Bass corrects himself and runs and exasperated hand through his hair.

"You left and I moved on. I grew the hell up and stopped being that pathetic little girl that everyone left. Miles protected me, loved me. So did Nora. Just like I was their own kid. I'm respected because I'm the best at what I do. I have my life together now. And that angry little girl who you had to watch over? She's locked away somewhere deep inside where she can't be seen. I don't want you here. I don't need the reminder."

"You're still Charlie Matheson so me."

"No," Charlie shakes her head and looks almost saddened. "I am Charlie Matheson to only two people in this world and they never left me"

"I won't leave again." Bass says, slowly approaching her.

Charlie picks up the bottle of whiskey, gripping it so tight that the wounds on her knuckles start to open again, blood leaking at the corners, her entire body looking smaller than he's ever seen it.

"I need you to go."

"Charlie… don't shut me out."

She snorts and takes a long pull from the bottle. "I need you to go before I make it so you can't walk tomorrow. I'm drunk and don't feel like feeling even shittier tomorrow."

He's desperate to stay here with her but he knows looking at the indifference in her eyes that he won't get anything more from her tonight.

"Can we have coffee this weekend?"

Charlie stares at him and he waits, his stomach sinking further with every passing minute.

She sets the bottle down and clenches her hands into fists, emphasizing the crimson and violent stains on her knuckles.

"Bass, it hurts to look at you. You know something that only one other person in my world knows and every time I look at you I'm reminded that you know. That I'm not Charlie Greyson to you, I'm Charlie Matheson. And every time you look at me now, you see Charlie Matheson. You _know_ Charlie Matheson. You know the worst part of my life and it's a reminder that I can never run far enough."

She sighs and wraps her slender arms around her waist. "I can't change that you know, but I don't know if I want to be reminded of it every time I look at you."

"Just think about it, okay?"

It's so subtle it's almost like it never happened but he sees her nod before she opens her apartment door and waits, watching him warily as he leaves.

Bass turns and holds her gaze as he stands in the hallway.

"I won't leave you again. I will spent as much time as it takes to prove that to you.'


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Charlie watches the back of Bass's head as he stands in the enormous coffee line, the line of his jaw slightly visible when he turns to smile at the lady in front of him who seems charmed.

Typical Bass.

His hand had been warm on the small of her back as he had walked her from the front of her apartment to the tables in the coffee house, his voice low as he told her to sit while he grabbed them coffee. She gazes out the window at the passing pedestrians and skyscraper buildings, leaning back in her chair to see just how far up she could see of them, just like she used to do as a kid with Miles in the car.

Charlie is almost amused that she can still surprise herself every once in awhile, the evidence in the fact that she's sitting here waiting for Bass to bring her coffee. The sharp ebb of anger becoming self loathing that eventually turned into sitting on her kitchen floor with an empty bottle of whiskey in her aching hand and the tiniest voice in the back of her head calling her a coward. She's anything but a coward.

"Here." Bass's voice interrupts her thoughts as he sets a steaming cup of coffee down in front of her in an oversized teal mug. "Four sugars, just how you like it."

"Thank you." She says it softly and as soon as it's said he waves it off in typical nonchalance Bass style.

"How's your hand?" The glow of sunlight casts a stark illumination of her skin and brings to life the crimson and violet mess she's made of her hands. She shrugs it off in typical Charlie fashion.

"It's healing. Should be good as gold in a few days."

His eyes take a hard look at her hands before nodding in agreement as he leans back into his chair, his hands wrapped securely around his cup and Charlie takes a sip of her coffee, enjoying the sweetness as she watches him.

"Miles says your avoiding his calls."

Charlie tilts her head slightly to the side and studies him, his blue eyes watching her openly with nothing but mere curiosity.

"Miles is right." She shrugs and smiles crookedly. "It wouldn't be much of a _screw you_ if I answered his calls in under 48 hours. He would think I was getting soft."

Bass breaks into a laugh and she lets herself take a moment to take in such unreal beauty, his eyes glowing as he shakes his head in appreciation of her and she wonders what it would be like to see him this open all the time.

"You know, Miles never really told me how you got into this. Hostage negotiating."

Charlie sighs and gives him a hard stare. "You really want to get into this now?"

Bass shrugs, "Most people want to know who they're working with."

Charlie snorts. "Yeah, if the person they're working with went out with that person not recognizing them because it's been seven years then ended up having to work with them because a psychopath is after them only to find out that it's their best friends niece who he left oh I don't know.. seven years ago?" There's a twinge of bitterness that she swallows quickly and when he just stares at her she stares right back.

"That's who you're working with Bass."

"Tell me Charlie." His voice carries no room for negotiation and she sits back in her chair to hold his blinding gaze.

"You want the long version or the short version."

"I can sort out the short version, tell me the long one."

The memories in Charlie's head start to unravel and she swallows hard and clenches her fists slightly to bring herself back to the present, ignoring the way Bass's gaze latches onto her clenched fists and his jaw tightens.

"I really hated myself when I was younger." It's a harsh way to start but his eyes fly to her and she shows indifference, cold steel in her blue eyes.

"I wanted to forget and being young and pretty it was pretty damn easy to do it. Pot, alcohol, boys, anything with an adrenaline rush, I was there."

She swallows hard and doesn't look at him, opting to look at her hands instead.

"The last time I saw Rachel I was in the pre op room of a Swedish hospital. You remember that?" Bass nods and she nods back.

"Miles told me I was delirious on pain meds when Rachel came into the room and I started having a panic attack and it only got worse when Rachel tried to get closer. After the transplant was completed the doctor did a more… thorough exam, he hadn't bothered in the beginning because he had known Rachel but after he saw what happened with her he thought he should." Charlie's laugh is dry and bitter, like there isn't enough air in the coffee shop to help her breathe through this.

"He did the exam and he found multiple mishealed fractures along my ribs, where no one could see. Bruises behind the back of my knees. A burn where she "accidentally" spilled boiling water. Many other things too." Charlie fiddles with her hands and breathes through her mouth.

"Anyway, fast forward a few years and it was me being a hellion and Miles trying to keep me from being arrested, or worse, dead. I was lucky for awhile, met some guys who did underground street fighting and racing and found a place to… to breathe. To forget the self loathing for a little while. The anger? The anger I could never really run from. It was good for awhile and then I got arrested for street fighting. Miles went ballistic."

Charlie's lips turn into a nostalgic smile at that. "Although he did have the decency to ask if I had won the fight before convincing the sergeant to not book me, that I would work my way out of it. So I did. Monday to Friday, four pm till ten or eleven at night I would go through files, get the guys coffee, take calls, do whatever was needed. Then one day a green crop of recruits comes through the bullpen where they all get handed an aptitude test that they have two hours to complete, and _maybe_ I stole one."

"Maybe?" Bass smirks at her though it looks forced and she shrugs. "The point is I finished that test in forty minutes before anyone else and scored with a 98%, the highest score in the last twelve years. Sergeant Atkins –the sergeant at the time hauled me into his office and went full out interrogation on me; good cop, bad cop, everything to make sure I didn't get some poor kid to do the test for me. In the next six months I did test after test to prove I wasn't screwing him around.

She actually smiles and takes a sip of her coffee before continuing. "Atkins wanted me to apply for a specialized task force where my IQ could be put to use but I told him I didn't want to sit in a surveillance van or chase after one drug dealer after another. I had read how high domestic abuse rates where and how little success any uniformed cops had sorting those cases out. I convinced Atkins to let me take all the classes and to tag along with the negotiator whenever I could.

From there, there's not much to tell. I graduated at seventeen, barely but I did. And then I finished all the courses required, marksmanship, combat, tactical training, psychology top the highest course offered. Two years after working under the hostage negotiator here, he got offered a promotion from Washington and Steve asked me to be his replacement. God Miles was livid, so of course I took the job, with the deal that my records would be sealed."

Charlie finds Bass's eyes transfixed by her and she can't hold his gaze without being drawn into blue.

"Yeah," Charlie shrugs and tries to look anywhere but at him, "Atkins retired, Steve got promoted, bumped me up to run a new division that specialized in hostage negotiation. Miles now helps runs the homicide unit at the 17th precinct. And you… well you're here."

She smiles softly and looks at his slight shocked expression. "How's that for the long version?"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Bass chill, she'll be here. They're woman, they usually run late."

Bass acknowledges Miles's words with a sip of whiskey and tries to focus on the football game that plays on the tv but can't help but glance at the clock with every minute that seems to pass by.

"Does she even know I'm here?"

Miles shrugs and looks unconcerned about Charlie blowing a gasket at Bass's presence at their sacred get togethers.

"I'm sure Nora mentioned it to her."

Miles's attention goes back to the game and Bass sighs as he sinks deeper into the sofa, feeling the beer in his hand warm from being held more than drank.

Bass hears the door before Miles and takes note of Nora coming through the door with pizza boxes in one arm and a case of beer in another, watching a smile grace her face when she sees him before ushering Miles to the kitchen. Bass waits anxiously, aware of the last time he saw Charlie was at work Friday night where she still hadn't really spoken to him unless it was absolutely necessary to his disappointment. He had hoped that her sharing her past with him would make her more comfortable with him but if anything she seemed to have closed herself off even more, a china wall build with expert precision to keep him out.

"Fucking hell Nora, who the hell are we feeding? All of Chicago?"

Bass hears Charlie's muffled voice from outside before she appears in the doorway, her red pea coat flowing around her as two bags of Chinese takeout rest in her hands, her eyes scanning until they land on him and she scoffs.

"Never mind, I figured out why."

She kicks off her boots unceremoniously and kicks the door shut before sweeping past him to the kitchen as his eyes follow her every move as she returns to him with a beer in her hand. She's opens her mouth about to say something when Nora jumps on her back and Charlie nearly loses her balance as they both end up on the couch beside Bass. They can't seem to stop laughing as tears start to roll down Nora's cheeks.

"What the hell was that for?!" Charlie screeches as she tries to stop laughing and Bass watches Nora kiss her forehead before getting up off the couch.

"Just missed you is all Charles."

Bass waits for a snarky response from Charlie but instead she's quiet as she watches Nora walk away from her.

"You okay?" Bass questions her and seems her mask seem to slide into place.

"Yeah I'm good." She takes a sip from her beer but doesn't shift away from and he takes it for what he hopes it is. Baby steps.

"Okay, pizza or Chinese food. Pick your poison kids." Miles calls from the kitchen and Bass watches Charlie almost hurtle the couch to get to the food and is reminded of the Charlie he used to know who had the same love of food. Maybe some things never change.

He gets off the couch to follow her and can't help but chuckle as he watches Charlie load up her plate with both Chinese food and pizza, the pizza serving as a base for the Chinese food she piles on top.

"All of you stop smirking. I'm hungry." Charlie doesn't even look up at them as she continues to add food to her plate before grabbing her beer to sit at the table.

Miles and Nora exchange a smile as Nora passes a plate to Bass before filling up her own plate and taking a seat next to Charlie. Bass watches Miles do the same and finally Bass follows, sitting on the other side of Charlie.

"How's work Miles?" Charlie asks him around mouthfuls of food and Miles shakes his head in exasperation.

"We have too many goddamn murders in this city Charles. I mean you remember all that paperwork that I was doing three years ago? Try tripling that."

Miles continuous on and Bass watches Charlie nod and add things in from time to time and he sees how in sync they are, the Matheson stubbornness and impatience bleeding into the conversation.

"How's the bank case going Charles?" Nora breaks into Miles's rant and Bass waits for Charlie to stiffen up at the mention of it but instead she shrugs and continuous to eat.

"It's going slow."

"Next week will be..."

"The week there will be another bank robbery. I know Miles. I'll be careful." 

"Will you be there with her?"

Bass is taken back by Miles asking but nods. "Anywhere she goes, I go.

"He's like a fucking shadow. Can't get rid of him till nighttime." Charlie mutters as she takes a sip of her beer.

"Oh I'm sure if you asked to stay the night he would." Nora mumbles and Bass watches Charlie freeze for a moment before a smirk falls into place.

"What?" Bass tries to figure out what's going on and can't decipher the smirk on Charlie and Nora's face or the unimpressed look on Miles's.

"Oh come on Bass," Nora snorts, "If Charlie hadn't told you she was a hostage negotiator you would have fucked her that day."

"You would've fucked me in the bathroom of that diner." Charlie chimes in and Bass notes the displeased look on Miles's face and knows he had to remedy this.

"Miles... man I wouldn't… I mean I didn't know it was Charlie."

Miles snorts and shakes his head before taking a long pull from his beer.

"Bass I know you. If you want something you go for it. But you better have her back after."

Everyone at the table is silent for a moment before Charlie breaks that silence with her laughter.

"Aw Uncle Miles, I'm so glad Bass has your approval to fuck me."

Miles frantically shakes his head. "No, no that is not what I meant Charlie!" but she is already shaking with laughter as she picks up her place and sets it in the sink before heading into the living room to watch the remainder of the game.

"So… is this your place man?" Bass tries to break the awkward silence Charlie left them with feels successful when Miles responds.

"Nah man. This is one of the safe houses Steve set Charlie up with after that second round of hostages died. He figured meeting at my place or her place wasn't a good idea so now we meet here on occasion. Sometimes at the other one. Sometimes out in public. It all depends on how the case is going."

Bass nods. "God I hope we catch a break in this case Miles. With the three month mark coming up I don't know if Charlie can handle more losses, but she'll burn herself out before she lets another round of hostages die."

"Bass there's only three ways this ends. Another round of hostages die, you catch the guy, or he catches Charlie. And Bass, there is no way in hell we can let that last option happen."

Bass finds Charlie curled up on the couch watching the shopping channel her vision zoned out as the glare of the screen dances across her face.

He goes to sit down on the other couch and she looks up from whatever daydream she was in.

"You can sit here you know."

He takes it as a peace offering and sits down gently beside her, noting how she doesn't move away from him, just adjusts slightly to accommodate him around her.

"Is it okay that I'm here?" He asks her, his voice soft and when she doesn't answer him he wonders if she ever will.

"I'm glad you're here Bass. I missed you."

 _I missed you._ The three words that would change everything for him. The three words that would define every move he made after that.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Charlie feels her combat boots hit the ground heavy with every step she takes as she angrily walks into the bullpen, the other cops in the bullpen refusing to meet her eyes as they sense the mood she's in. She runs a hand through her messy windblown hair and tries to slow her breathing to a reasonable rate, but Charlie is anything but reasonable and she soon feels her blood start to boil again.

"Charlie."

She refuses to look over to the voice calling her and instead sits down at her desk and pulls her jacket off.

"Charlie"

This time Bass's voice is more forceful and she notes how the bullpen is so silent you could hear a bullet drop. She finds him standing in front of her desk, his hair unruly and his clothes rumpled and sweaty as though he had run after her and the sight of him makes her angrier than before.

"We need to talk."

She wants to tell him where he can shove it but the silence of the bullpen reminds her that there's a time and a place to make a stand and this is neither the time nor the place. Instead she stands and without a word leads him to the elevator, hearing him follow her, his footsteps heavier and wearier than hers as he joins her in the elevator and watches the glowing lights take them to the roof. She can feel the tension radiating off him and she feels her hands clench into fists as the elevator rises.

Finally they reach the roof and she steps off into the stairwell, taking the flight of stairs that lead to the door of the rooftop, climbing them two at a time and opening the roof door with her key, the key shaking in her hands before she steadies herself.

The evening air is cooler, especially up here and despite her anger she feels goosebumps brush her skin, making the skin rise and her hair fly.

"Listen, Charlie-" Bass starts and she wheels on him so fast that he backpedals for a moments before he seems to remember that she's a quite a few inches shorter than him and weighs half of him as he then holds his ground.

"You had no right! No right to make the call that you did!" She's screaming and can hear it echo off the roof and into the air.

"Charlie she had a gun at your head!"

"I was talking her down Bass! She wasn't going to shoot!" Charlie still hadn't washed the blood off her yet and sees specks of blood on the white tank top.

"She was just lost Bass, she had nothing and no one. She would have killed herself before she would've hurt me. It's my call to make with the snipers, not yours! I'm on the ground with her, I'm the one talking to her. She would have let me go."

"You know the rules Charlie. As soon as she took you, she had made her choice whether she lived or died."

"As the person she took, it was my call whether the trigger was pulled. Not yours. You shouldn't have even been there! This was a completely different case than what Washington sent you here for."

Bass falls quiet and Charlie can feel his hesitation. "What Bass?" She asks, her exhaustion seeping into her voice.

"I asked Steve to assign me to any case you work."

She freezes and can't seem to form the words for a moment as her brain tries to process what he's saying.

"Did Miles ask you to do this?"

Bass shakes his head, "Miles doesn't know."

"I don't need you there. I can take care of myself which you would have seen if you hadn't put a bullet in that woman's head!"

"You would be dead if I hadn't done that!" Bass yells and she sees anger that matches hers in his eyes. " You would have let her kill you then have the sniper take her out."

"I'm not suicidal Bass, but there was a chance for her to walk away, one chance and you took that away from her, from me. I could have given her another chance."

Bass looks exhausted as he runs a hand through his hair, making the strands stand up unevenly. "Charlie…. You can't save everyone."

Charlie feels like he's slapped her and backs away and she can see Bass realizing the impact of what he said, his eyes becoming frantic and he tries to get closer to her.

"Danny's death…. It wasn't your fault. Neither was the hostages dying. You are not responsible for everyone. Their deaths are not on your hands."

Charlie feels tears at the mention of Danny and takes a step closer to him and watches as he matches her step and takes one towards her until they're an arm length apart.

"Charlie…" She sees his eyes widen but he's too slow to back away as her fist connect with his nose, making his head ricochet backwards from the force.

"Don't ever mention Danny again." She spits out as she walks back to the door, leaving him on the roof alone with a bleeding nose.

Bass enters Steve's office, taking in the alarmed look on Steve's face as he closes the door behind him.

"Where's Charlie?"

Steve looks concerned but motions for him to sit, giving him a hard look until Bass relents and sits unhappily in the chair.

"She do that?" Steve nods to Bass's nose that is still bleeding slightly and is answered by Bass not answering.

"It was the right call Steve." Bass has no doubt he made the right call and is only slightly relieved when Steve nods.

"It was, but Charlie needs time to process what happened. Deaths like these aren't easy on Charlie. This isn't some cokehead in an alley threatening to shoot a child Bass. This was a woman who's child had been taken away from her and given back to her ex, an abusive asshole who hits her only a bit more than he hits her kid. All she wanted was a way out, someone to pay attention and Charlie feels like it was her duty to save them."

"Even if it ends with her leaving in a body bag?"

Steve sighs and runs a hand over his face. "She's not suicidal Bass if that's what your asking. She's willing to go far to save someone, including taking a bullet meant for them and being held gunpoint if there's a chance she can save them. Now, why did she hit you?"

Bass feels uncomfortable and goes with lie that feels the most like the truth, "I told her she couldn't save everyone."

"You brought up Danny." Steve's glare is daggers at him and Bass shakes his head. "She got Danny from that. I then tried to fix what I said by telling her that Danny was not her fault."

"God you really fucked up didn't you Monroe?" Steve crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. "When a hostage negotiator is about to join my team, I make it mandatory that they take a psych evaluation that is only passed if the psychologist and I both sign off on it. Well she goes for the exam and the psychologist thinks it's a joke when a nineteen year old walks into her office, but what she doesn't know is that Charlie can lie through her teeth like the devil pretending to be an angel. I don't hold that against her, I mean her job requires that. Anything to make the bad guys relate to her. Anyway the psychologist finishes with Charlie and tells me that she has some concerns, mainly Charlie unwillingness to talk about her family.

So I call Miles to tell him that if Charlie won't answer the questions, she wont ever pass the exam and Miles tells me to let it. Overlook it. I tell him I need to know why I'm suppose to overlook something that my agent can't seem to open up about, something that could jeopardize a negotiation one day if she can't face it, and Miles tells me about Danny."

Steve pauses and then nods, "And I'm guessing by your face that you know about Danny."

Bass slowly nods, "I was there when they were doing the bone marrow transplant. We made sure that Rachel and Charlie were to never see each other after she had a panic attack from seeing Rachel. We didn't see her for a long time after that."

"Until Danny died."

Bass exhales slowly and nods. "The transplant was a success… at first. Then Danny's body started to reject Charlie's bone marrow. The doctors say that there's a 75% chance with kids that sick that the transplant will fail. He didn't last very long after the rejection started. Then two years later Ben died from a car accident while driving to see Charlie here in Chicago. At least that's what I heard. I wasn't around when that happened"

"Charlie blames herself, that's what the psychologist told me. Her brother died from her bone marrow, her father died in a freak accident while coming to visit her after two years of not seeing her and yet he dies on that trip? It explains how she handles herself now, she's at peace with the idea of dying because she thinks it should have been her, no matter how unrealistic that is. She takes it to another level when she can't save someone because it takes her back to her father and brother dying."

"I need to talk to her." Bass says, his hands clenching the arms of the chair.

"She's out on a raid with alpha team 2."

"She's on a raid?!" She just had a gun held to her head less than two hours ago and she's out on a raid?"

"Bass, the more you learn about Charlie, you'll learn that the worst thing to ask Charlie to do is to go home and let it go. She needs to work it out of her system doing something worthwhile."

"I need to see her." Bass repeats and watches as Steve gets up from his chair and collects his coat before he heads for his office door. "You can ride with me."

Bass shifts impatiently in Steve's truck, and even with Steve driving 15 above the speed limit he still feels the impatience.

"Relax Bass, they won't breach until I'm there and give the order."

Bass nods but still feels the tension in his stomach rising, his eyes searching the sidewalks for blonde hair and a SWAT vest.

Steve parks and then takes off in a jog towards the black SWAT van positioned a block in front of them and Bass breaks into a jog to keep up with him. As they near the van he spots the herd of SWAT members all decked out in gear except for the tiny blonde with the tiny bulletproof SWAT vest, her hair up as she checks her gun before sliding it back into its holster.

"Stay here." Steve mutters as he goes over to Charlie who looks more than unimpressed when she spots Bass lurking by the van. Bass watches them talk for a moment before Steve comes back over to him with a comm and he motions Bass into the van with him.

"No way," Bass shakes his head, "grab me a vest and let me go in there with them."

"Bass get in the van or go home. My best agent is pissed as hell that you're here and I'm doing you a favor letting you be here."

Bass glowers but gets in the van, hearing Steve speak beside him and over his comm.

"Alpha team 2, Adam will lead the raid from the back entrance, alpha team 3, Charlie will lead the raid from the front entrance. Bass watches the screen where the helmet behind her is capturing her moving swiftly towards the front entrance as her ponytail swings back and forth.

"Alpha team 2 in position." Comes the voice over his comm and Bass watches as Charlie takes position by the door.

"Alpha team 3 in position." Charlie's voice carries over the comms and it sounds calm and hushed.

"Breach on my go." Steve checks both monitors and then begins the countdown. "Three, two, one, breach."

Bass watches the guy on Charlie's right kick the door in before Charlie sweeps by him and goes for the stairs. The only thing Bass can see on the monitors is Charlie's torso as she runs up the stairs, her gun angled up as she turns left and starts to clear rooms.

"Shit!"

There's a blur of motion on the monitor where Charlie is and then Bass can hear himself yelling, "Get down Charlie!"

He sees a flash of her turning before the guy is on her his gun pointed towards her torso before she kicks him in the stomach as the voice over the comm yells for a medic as alpha team 2 declares the rest of the house clear.

"Boss?"

"Yeah?" Steve searches the monitors for a moment before listening over the comms.

"Greysons down. We need a medic."

Bass is about to jump out the door when two medics come rushing past him and he slows as he watches them rush into the house and feels Steve come up behind him.

"She's fine Bass. Darren would be yelling a lot louder if she was actually hurt."

Bass nods but keeps a lookout until finally Charlie comes out of the house, one of the medics supporting her weight as she walks with her. The other medic comes over to Steve and Steve eyes him with disdain.

"She's walking."

The medic shrugs sheepishly. "She refused to be carried out on the gurney. It's a shallow cut across her torso, nothing life threatening. She'll need stitches and something for the pain but she'll be fine. We'll take her to the hospital."

It's barely out of the medics mouth before Bass can hear Charlie protesting. "No. No hospital."

Bass can see Steve preparing for a fight like he's had this argument with her enough times.

"Charlie you need stitches, a hospital is where you're going."

She shakes her head furiously and her hands hold the bandage to her torso. "No hospital. Bass can stitch me up."

Bass opens his mouth to protest but Charlie beats him to it. "You have the training for basic field stitches."

Bass want's to argue but sees the pleading look in Charlie's eyes. "Fine but you better not complain about a scar later."


End file.
